


Cross My Heart And Hope To Die

by AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, America is a Dork (Hetalia), Angel England, Demon America, Don't Post To Another Site, England is an Idiot, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 08:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate/pseuds/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate
Summary: Some days were worse than others.Most mornings, Alfred would wake up with a slight twinge in his legs and hips. He would then roll out of bed and take a moment to steady himself before going about his business. His hips may have begun to buckle at a point or two, but he would always be able to catch himself and return to what he was doing. Sometimes, he may have needed his wings to steady himself, but those days are few and far between, thankfully. For the most part, Alfred could go about life pretending to be, albeit an odd one, human.Apparently, Arthur had not learned that same lesson.





	Cross My Heart And Hope To Die

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM HIS 3 WEEKS IN GERMANY
> 
> And wrote this on the plane, so hope you all enjoy! Hope it makes up for my absence! 
> 
> Basically, Arthur is an angel, Alfred is a demon, and that's kind of it for Good Omens. Enjoy these dorks xD
> 
> (also I'm totally not projecting on Arthur psh no)

Some days were worse than others. 

Most mornings, Alfred would wake up with a slight twinge in his legs and hips. He would then roll out of bed and take a moment to steady himself before going about his business. His hips may have begun to buckle at a point or two, but he would always be able to catch himself and return to what he was doing. Sometimes, he may have needed his wings to steady himself, but those days are few and far between, thankfully. For the most part, Alfred could go about life pretending to be, albeit an odd one, human. 

Some days, however, he couldn’t. He would wake up one morning and his hips would buckle instantly, sending him into a heap on the floor. He would then groan and push himself up with shaky arms before grabbing his crutches, call off all engagements, and spend the day taking care of his stupid body. He hated these days more than anything, but since he had not found a way to fix it, he just had to deal with it. Gilbert taught him that taking care of yourself was more important than seeing a stupid, cute angel, and after the Incident of ‘48, Alfred had promised to stay at home on Bad Days. 

Apparently, Arthur had not learned that same lesson. 

On Bad Days, those days when Arthur’s feathers were so tangled he could feel their broken shafts digging into his shoulderblades, he did not stay home. On days when his legs trembled under the strain of gravity on a humanoid body, he did not sit on the couch like his body asked him to. Those weeks where he forgot to eat were not followed with rest. Arthur deemed the needs of his corporeal body to be inconsequential, something that infuriated Alfred to no end. One of these days, Arthur was going to collapse, and the demon could only hope that he was there to catch him. 

* * *

Unfortunately for Arthur, all of his Bad Days piled up one day to make for an absolutely Horrible Day. He woke up to a hollow stomach screaming at him for food, despite the nausea at the mere thought of even looking at food. When he attempted to sit up to rectify this, his arms collapsed out from under him, a sign that did not bode well for the state of his legs. As a final resort, Arthur spread his wings for balance, only to let out a scream of agony as his unruly feathers were driven even deeper into tender flesh. He collapsed back onto his stomach, tears trickling down his face, as he contemplated what to do. 

Of course, since She hated him, his phone rang at that exact moment. “Hey angel!” Alfred’s voice chirped on the other end of the line after his call went to voicemail. “I found this great new cafe downtown that serves all kinds of cakes and pastries and coffee. Oh! And tea. I figured you’d want to try it? It’s right next to the movie theatre. Anyway, call me back ASAP, please! Love ya, angel!” He hung up with a click, leaving Arthur to suffer alone. 

The angel forced himself into a sitting position, his wings hanging limp on the bed behind him. He let out a whimpering groan as he forced himself to his feet, grabbing a bedpost for support before beginning the Herculean task of walking to his closet. 

Arthur forced his wings to go incorporeal as he dressed in his usual outfit, though he could still feel the feathers all tangled together. He made no attempts with his hair, merely miracaling his phone and wallet into his coat before beginning the long walk to his front door. 

_ That cafe sounds lovely, Alfred. Shall we meet there in half an hour?  _ Arthur did not have the energy to call, and he especially couldn’t risk giving away his condition to the bubbly demon he called his friend. 

The response was almost instantaneous.  _ Of course! I’ll see you soon, angel!  _ Arthur slid his phone back into his pocket, let out a sigh, and walked out the front door, wincing with every step he took. 

He managed to arrive at the cafe exactly twenty eight minutes later, practically dropping down into a chair with a relieved whimper. His legs were shaking so badly, his brain was screaming at him for rest, and his feathers had somehow become even more tangled. To be blunt, he felt like shit, but he refused to rest. Alfred was feeling well, and Arthur could not deny the demon a meeting when he was having a good day. 

Alfred came bounding through the door only two minutes later, perfectly on time as always. His blue eyes shone brightly behind the enchanted glasses Adam had given him to hide the true nature of his eyes. Arthur let out a small smile at the sight, raising his hand to give a small wave and let his demon know where he was, despite the protest his muscles gave. 

Alfred’s sharp eyes spied Arthur and he bounced over, fang-filled grin bright. “Angel! How are you?” 

“Wonderful, Alfred,” Arthur replied, swallowing back the choking guilt of lying. “And yourself?” 

“Amazing! Body is cooperating today, for once! How about I order, be right back!” Arthur nodded as Alfred took off, letting out a sigh of relief at not being required to move.

Alfred came back with an absolutely massive tray of pastries and cakes, a pot of tea nestled in the centre. Arthur felt his stomach clench in protest but smiled regardless, unwilling to upset Alfred. 

“It all looks scrumptious.” 

“Yep! I also got you Earl Grey tea, hope that’s okay.” Arthur nodded, and Alfred poured him a cup before dividing all the baked goods in half. Arthur forced his nausea down as he accepted his plate, piled with four different cakes and six other assorted pastries. Alfred raised a piece of cheesecake in an imitation of a toast, and Arthur followed suit, quickly chewing and swallowing the sweet food before setting to work on clearing the rest of the plate. 

Half an hour later, Arthur had somehow managed to choke down his half of the food, taking a long break for tea in the middle. He knew he would not be eating for the rest of the day, possibly week, and it was taking all his energy to keep his food down. 

“So, was it good, angel?” Alfred asked, still beaming. Arthur swallowed and nodded, nausea clawing at his throat. Alfred stood, extending a hand, and Arthur took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. 

“I’ll drive you home, come on.” With that, Alfred placed a hand on the small of Arthur’s back and began to guide him outside towards his beloved Bentley, all while Arthur desperately tried to stay on his feet. 

He managed to last until a few steps before the Bentley. His poor legs had had quite enough at that point and simply buckled, sending him sprawling on the pavement. 

“Angel!” Alfred yelped, diving down to cradle Arthur’s head before it hit the pavement. Arthur groaned, his limbs throbbing. “Angel, what’s wrong, answer me!” 

“Legs… heavy,” Arthur mumbled. “Just give me a moment.” 

“Have you felt like this all morning?” Alfred sounded worried. That would not do, Arthur thought. Alfred should never sound worried.

“N-”

“The truth, Arthur. Please.” 

Arthur sighed, defeated. “Yes.” 

Alfred’s jaw clenched and, before Arthur could protest, lifted the angel into his arms and carried him to the Bentley. 

“Alfred, what-” 

“Shut up, angel, I’m taking you home and taking care of you.” 

“No, Alfred, you don’t need to.” 

“Yes I do, because you clearly can’t do it yourself!” Alfred snapped, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car. Arthur fell silent at that, too tired to refute it. 

The ride to Arthur’s apartment was fast, thanks to Alfred’s reckless driving. Alfred carried Arthur into the apartment and laid him on the couch, smoothing back his hair before rolling him onto his stomach. 

“Where exactly does it hurt, angel?” Alfred murmured. Arthur gulped, nervous, but decided to tell the truth. 

“Wings… legs… arms…” 

“Can you corporate your wings, please?” Arthur did, groaning as their weight pressed him into the couch. Alfred whispered soothing words into Arthur’s ear as his fingers gently sunk into his feathers. Arthur moaned as they were straightened, untangled, pruned. He couldn’t remember the last time his wings felt this good, but he was fairly certain the answer was “never”. 

“Angel, you really need to groom these,” Alfred lightly growled, finishing with Arthur’s flights. 

“Never learned,” Arthur answered softly. “Was never very liked up in Heaven.” 

“Adding another thing to my ‘Things To Punch Francis Over’ list.” 

“The frog is not worth it, I promise.” 

“Well, you’re worth it.” Alfred had moved on to massaging Arthur’s legs, causing the angel to melt into a puddle of mush on the couch. 

“No I’m not. I’m just a stupid angel who can’t do anything right.” 

“And I’m the worst demon ever,” Alfred countered. “Don’t you always tell me I’m worth it?” 

“That’s different.” 

“Not really.” Alfred almost sounded sad. “Now, you need rest, angel. Get some sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.” 

“Will you?” 

“Of course, angel. I’ll always be here, I promise. Always and forever yours.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments! I'll see you next time!
> 
> ~Q
> 
> P.S.: I've been getting back into Hetalia, so you might see more from me for this fandom!


End file.
